To
say that Silent in the Grave annoyed me would be a vast
understatement. This book had tons of high recommendations, and I
cannot for the life of me figure out why.

First, the heroine, who is supposed to be intelligent, tends towards
sheer idiocy. Sure, she’s well read and knows about art and music, but
she hasn’t a lick of sense, and is constantly placing herself into
incredibly stupid situations. For example, she thinks gypsies may want
to kill her brother. So what does she do? She drags him out to the
gypsy encampment. Sheer genius.

Secondly, the “mystery” was pretty transparent. Unusual for me, I
knew who the killer was halfway through the book. I didn’t know the
reason, but considering all the ridiculous information that was thrown
in towards the end, I can’t see how I was supposed to have known. So
the biggest “mystery” in the book was how long it was going to take
the heroine (and I use that term very loosely) to fall in love with
the hero.

Too damned long is the answer.

And to make things worse, her “sudden” attraction to the hero drove
me nuts as well. She emphatically repeats in one chapter how she is
attracted to thin, blond, dainty men like her husband, and doesn’t
like the tall dark hero at all. The in the next chapter “suddenly”
remembers that as a child/teen her favorite romantic heroes were tall,
dark, muscular, and handsome, and she recalls all the daydreams she
had about her literary heroes.

Come on. If she spent that much time day dreaming, how could she have
forgotten so quickly and easily?

Thirdly (am I only on three?), it feels like the author wanted to
write a “Victorian” mystery without having to go to all the trouble to
create an actual Victorian heroine. I don’t care how liberal and
“crazy” her family was, the way she continually makes scenes, members
of society would have crossed the street to get away from her–and not
because she was a widow. I cannot imagine a Victorian heroine–no
matter how liberally raised–acting in public as Julia acted.

Fourthly, don’t get me wrong, I strongly believe in equality across
the board, but a Victorian heroine who was fully accepting of Jews,
Gypsies, prostitutes, lesbians, and homosexuals–but completely freaked
out about pornography? Not only are her beliefs simply too modern to
be accepted, but she wasn’t internally inconsistent. I’m sorry, but if
you want to write an historical mystery, you have to follow at least
most of the conventions of the time. If you want to write an
historical mystery where the heroine has modern views, by all means do
so, but label it properly as fantasy.

Fifthly, other than looking mighty fine with his shirt off, and
secretly (but obviously) swooning over the heroine, the hero doesn’t
do a whole lot in this story, other than allow this repressed (?!)
woman to free herself from her “mousy” persona. That and provide
something for Julia to drool over and her family to tease her about.
Ugh. Never mind the fact that although Julia constantly dwells on
Rayburn, when he finally kisses her, the reader is left wondering
precisely what happened. Seriously, they step behind a tree, he raises
his hand as if to hit her, and then suddenly she back in the carriage?
WTF? (And the number of times he physically threatens her? Liberal
woman my rear end.)

Sixthly, the concluding chapters suddenly started throwing in all
kinds of new information from all OVER the place. We learn about forty
thousand new things about her dead husband, none of them good, while
one of the characters in the book suddenly does an about face and
changes from sweet and angelic to EVIL (and I mean maniacal laugh
evil). Sorry, not buying that either. No one has that good of a game
face–especially considering the circumstances. And especially since
his “rationale” for his EVILNESS is utterly and completely far fetched
and comes is completely from out of left field.

Lastly (although I could go on) the book “concludes” (and I use that
term loosely as well) leaving the “romantic” element of the story
completely unresolved, and blatantly mentioning the next mystery
(Coming soon!). I hate this more than you can possibly imagine. It’s
one thing to put a chapter or two of the next book after the end of
the current book. It’s something else entirely to have the heroine
talk about the next book at the end of the final chapter. Listen, if
your book is good, your writing strong, and your characters
interesting, I will read the next book. Ending one book with a cliff
hanger or a teaser for the next just makes me mad.

Did this book have strengths? Certainly. Which is the only reason I
kept reading. But these strengths were in no way good enough to
overcome the many flaws that I found incredibly irritating. If you
want a mystery with strong romantic overtones, check out Tasha
Alexander’s And Only to Deceive. That wasn’t my cup of
tea either, but at least it was well done.Rating: 3/10

Wow. I really HATED that first time around.

Re-Read: June 2014

First,
a mea culpa. In my memory, I confused this with another book. A book
that I found ho-hum at best. I also read this at a time when I was
still irritated when someone put romance into my mystery (or fantasy
or whatever), and I remembered this as having a lot of romance.

It didn’t, really.

So, I’ve been irritated in my mind with this book for no damned
reason at all. Which is too bad, because upon re-reading, I found I
quite enjoyed it.

Lady Julia Grey’s husband Edward dies at a dinner party they are
giving, and although his death was not completely unexpected (he
suffered from a hereditary heart ailment) it was sudden, and a private
inquiry agent he had hired believes Edward may have been murdered. But
she has no interest, and instead turns to learning how to be a widow.

“I know that you wish to mourn Edward . He was a lovely person and
we were all quite fond of him. But the man you buried was not the
child you played with. Do not make the mistake of climbing into his
grave and forgetting to live the rest of your life.”

Being a widow was an internal and a society process. Society expected
widows to wear unrelieved black for a full year, to avoid any social
engagements and frivolity, socializing only with their immediate
family. Many widows, such as Queen Victoria, spent the remainder of
their lives in morning, and many women saw the Queen as someone to be
emulated.

As much as I love reading historical mysteries, the constantly remind
me how glad I am to live in the future.

Mindful of propriety , I was thickly veiled and I walked
purposefully , keeping my head still so that I appeared to look
neither right nor left.

But my eyes roved constantly, taking it all in.

Now, Julia may be a lady, but her upbringing was unusual, so she
holds many ideas that did exist at the time, but were often considered
radical. The book is set in 1886, so some modern ideas aren’t
completely unexpected.

And there was a comment which is appropriate to any time period.

Life is too uncertain, my dear. You must seize happiness where you
find it.

All-in-all, I’m sorry I confused this book with another, because I
quite enjoyed it, and have already started on the sequel.Rating: 7.5/10

After
discovering her husband’s murderer, Lady Julia Gray has gone to Italy
to recuperate, living with her brothers, Plum and Lysander, and
enjoying the country.

But after her brother Lysander returns home married (much to
everyone’s surprise) the three are ordered home by their father,
ostensibly to spend Christmas, but more likely for Lysander to show
his bride and receive a dressing down (or else lose his allowance).

But the holidays look to be chaotic, with surprise visitors and more.

This is a mystery, so there is a murder, but it occurs more than a
third of the way through the book, so I was starting to worry about
who would end up dead.

Some of the threads I found to be a little strange–or even
ridiculous. (A jewel thief? Really?) But I still enjoyed the period
and the characters.

And I was astounded to see the game of sardines played.

the notion of sardines was bandied about, and found to be agreeable
to everyone. After another lengthy discussion concerning rules and
procedures, it was established we should each play alone.

This was a game my extended family played when I was a child, but
whenever I described it to people, they would look at me like I was
insane, or had made it up.

And when I read this passage,

start my own business , selling cheap shoes out of a cart for four
times what they cost to make. They fell apart the first time they
got wet, but no matter.

Lady
Julia Grey and her sister–against the wishes of both their father and
older brother–are headed to Yorkshire, the Grimsgrave estate, where
Brisbane has taken up residence and is attempting to rehabilitate the
manor.

There is a lot of work ahead of him.

Although I guessed relatively quickly who the “bad guy” was, as well
as several other salient points, it didn’t bother me, since the
likelihood of Lady Julia guessing these things was very unlikely.
After all, despite her eccentricities, she is a lady of her time, and
wouldn’t assume the worst.

I also guessed several of the twists, but again it didn’t quite
matter since Lady Julia wouldn’t have been likely to guess the depths
of human depravity (and although her father railed against it, the
dangers of inbreeding weren’t as commonly known).

However, I still find Brisbane irritating, and really don’t get what
Lady Julia sees in him. Yes, he doesn’t want to lead her on, since he
has no fortune or name to offer her, and their connection would cause
her far more harm than any societal rise he might get (which would be
somewhat unlikely, considering his heritage).

But that doesn’t mean he had to be such an asshole.

So, I enjoyed the mystery, and was glad to see the romance resolved,
so hopefully we won’t have to see Brisbane being a complete jerk in
the future.

At least we can hope.

There were plenty of other things to enjoy however, such as her
brother’s fascinating with medicine and public health.

Valerius busied himself each day in the village, sitting in the
public room of The Hanged Man and attempting to win the villagers’
confidence. When I asked him why, he would only say, “ I have
thoughts I wish to share with them regarding public hygiene.”

That and his thoughts on public drains endeared me to him, despite
the fact he was a bit of a dolt. But to cut him some slack, it is
fascinating how his sister in some ways had an easier time breaking
some societal conventions than he did, in his desire to be a doctor.

And this passage amused me.

“If you had mummy babies, would you advertise the fact?”
“But that is precisely the point. If I were the type of person to
keep mummy babies lying about, I shouldn’t think I would mind if
people actually knew it,” she pointed out.

I can totally see myself saying something like that.
So interesting, although in no way perfect. I still want to read more
of the series, so that probably says more than my feelings about
specific parts of this story.

This had been on my wishlist for awhile, because although I found her
other series vaguely annoying (both not so annoying that I didn’t read
multiple books) this seemed right up my alley.

As the city prepares to celebrate Queen Victoria’s golden jubilee,
Veronica Speedwell is marking a milestone of her own. After burying
her spinster aunt, the orphaned Veronica is free to resume her world
travels in pursuit of scientific inquiry—and the occasional romantic
dalliance. As familiar with hunting butterflies as she is fending
off admirers, Veronica wields her butterfly net and a sharpened
hatpin with equal aplomb, and with her last connection to England
now gone, she intends to embark upon the journey of a lifetime.

But fate has other plans, as Veronica discovers when she thwarts
her own abduction with the help of an enigmatic German baron with
ties to her mysterious past. Promising to reveal in time what he
knows of the plot against her, the baron offers her temporary
sanctuary in the care of his friend Stoker—a reclusive natural
historian as intriguing as he is bad-tempered. But before the baron
can deliver on his tantalizing vow to reveal the secrets he has
concealed for decades, he is found murdered. Suddenly Veronica and
Stoker are forced to go on the run from an elusive assailant, wary
partners in search of the villainous truth.

But since I didn’t love her other series, I wasn’t going to pay full
price, so when it dropped to $2.99, I snagged it.

I do like Veronica Speedwell.

Expeditions are enormously expensive because they have to cart
around everyone’s self-importance. Most of the leaders of these
undertakings are dilettantes, gentlemen scientists who insist upon
touring in luxury, packing so much silver and linen they might
imagine themselves in a London hotel. You are a resourceful man. Are
you not familiar with the intrepid lady travelers? Women like
Isabella Bird and Marianne North? They managed to go right round the
world with little more than what they could fit into a saddlebag. I
am persuaded you could travel quite easily with a single bag.

And yes, those are actually female explorers of the time, so:
AWESOME!

I should never understand men, I reflected, even if I devoted
myself to the study of them as I had lepidoptery. To begin with, I
should need a considerably larger net, I decided with a private
smile.

Plus, she is in many ways a woman after my own heart.

I think better when I am in motion and things about me are orderly.

One may be elegant or enthusiastic, but seldom both.

I, of course, always aim for elegant.

No?

This was a fun book, and thoroughly enjoyable. There is tension
between the two main characters, but no boinking. Yet.Rating: 8.5/10

The second Veronica Speedwell mystery finds Veronica and Stoker
preparing for an expedition–until their benefactor breaks his leg
tripping over his giant tortoise. This leaves both cranky with each
other until a new mystery is dropped in their laps.

Veronica is summoned to the Curiosity Club, and there is asked to
save Miles Ramsforth from being executed for the murder of a young
artist named Artemisia, who was also his mistress.

First off, I ran into a paragraph that sent me right out of the
story.

I knew he was thinking of the time his wife nearly cost him his
life in Brazil. Caroline. The name pierced me like a lance, but I
refused to speak it aloud.

I did not remember reading anything about Stoker talking about his
wife Caroline up until that point. I know I read quickly and sometimes
scan, but I was pretty sure I’d have paid attention to that, so I
actually went and searched both books for “Caroline” “wife” and
“Brazil” (yay for ebooks!) and found nothing of Stoker telling
Veronica anything about his previous wife.

Was this something that had been edited out of either of the books
and references to it were left in? I have no idea, it it still bugs
me.

Aside from that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. We meet a new
character, Lady Wellie, who was delightful.

“In my day, chairs were not for comfort. They were to keep your
bottom from touching the floor and that is all. And be glad Cordelia
is not here. She is a lovely girl, but she would swoon straightaway
if she heard me use the word ‘bottom’ in polite company. It is the
greatest advantage of getting old, you know. I can say precisely
what I like and everyone excuses it because I knew Moses from his
bulrush days.”

There is still the tension between Veronica and Stoker–cranked up all
the more because there is a grotto involved in the mystery. One of
those built around the time of the Hellfire clubs.

“There is no sociology here,” Stoker corrected, his voice still
tight. “These are not phalluses— at least not the sort meant for
study.”

I blinked at him. “Whatever do you mean?”

He was blushing furiously. “They are . . . Oh God, I can’t even say
the word.”

“What word?”

“Dil— No, I can’t. I can tell you in Greek. These are olisboi.
Or if you prefer, in Spanish, consoladores.”

That amused me–not that there would be a room full of phalluses, but
that he couldn’t say the word dildo but instead had to switch to
Greek.

We also got an interesting view of the judicial system.

“Do you think he is guilty?”

She blinked. “Well, he must be, miss. He’s been found guilty by a
proper jury. Those gentlemen would know, wouldn’t they?”

I almost admired her touching faith in the judicial system. “You
would think so,” I managed.

It was an interesting mystery, and I enjoyed it but I am still
annoyed by the bit where we’re supposed to know more about Stoker’s
ex-wife than we do.Rating: 7.5/10 (dinged for the bit about the wife)

The third Veronica Speedwell mystery finds Veronica and Stoker
investigating the disappearance of an archeologist and a valuable
Egyptian diadem.

They get involved because the missing man is the husband of Stoker’s
ex-wife–a woman who left him for dead and then completely destroyed
his reputation, making him a pariah in polite society.

Caroline Templeton-Vane had left him in Brazil and returned to
England to petition for divorce on the grounds of cruelty was public
record.

Although there is no boinking in this book, Veronica is quite open
about her interest in sex and attractive men.

Stoker is… not interested in such discussions.

Stoker blushed furiously. “For the love of God, put that thing
away.”

“I cannot imagine why you are so bashful on the subject of the male
genitalia of Homo sapiens when you are the only one of us who can
boast of owning it.”

As much as I don’t love boinking books, I do love that Veronica is so
open and frank about sex and her interest in it, while Stoker is the
one trapped by mores and traditions. (Traditions that said it was
perfectly fine for him to sow his wild oats, mind you.)

Stoker did not judge my predilections any more than I judged him
for living as chastely as any medieval monk. A brief and hellish
marriage followed by a period of Bacchanalian overindulgence had
soured him on romance.

There are many things I like about this books. Take the pointed looks
at VIctorian medicine.

“That works,” he said in some astonishment.

Stoker sighed. “I am a surgeon,” he reminded Sir Hugo.

“Yes, I just didn’t know you were a good one.”

And I like Stoker’s opposition to the display of mummies.

“She was a person, for God’s sake! She deserves to be left in
peace, not displayed like a fairground attraction for people with
half a shilling to gawp at.”
…
“She was human once,” he said finally. “She walked and breathed and
loved people and she had a name. Ankheset. It will be inscribed on
the heart scarab that someone laid upon her to protect her in the
afterlife. That ought to be respected instead of letting the rabble
in to paw at her. She deserves to rest in peace.”

It’s an interesting take, one you’d have expected the female
character to have, and it’s a reminder of the humanity of all of us
(something often lacking).

I also liked how complicated Lady Tiverton was.

“I learnt long ago that when one is only half British, the other
half will be blamed for every evil of temper or habit. I schooled
myself in deportment so that the part of me that is Egyptian may
never be held up as a pattern for degradation or vice. I became more
British than any Englishwoman I knew, and still every syllable I
speak, every gesture, every thought is examined by Society.

Especially her relationship with her step-daughter. (I was very
impressed with the resolution of the girl’s situation. It was not what
one would normally expect.)

But despite all there, there is something about this book and series
that keeps me from absolutely loving it. It’s fine. The characters are
fun. The mystery is interesting. But it never quite crosses the line
for me into something I love. I was perfectly content to wait for this
book to become available to borrow from the library.

That doesn’t meant I didn’e enjoy it, I just didn’t find it
compelling in the way I do some books and series.

But I’ll close on this lovely quote.

(L)ife is not about achievement. It is about the effort. If one
takes pleasure in every step, one enjoys the whole journey.”

It’s worth reading, but for me it wasn’t worth the
just-published-and-also-out-in-hardback price.